On Friday, MoLinder and I were hanging out on the porch when we saw a particularly blustery gust of wind fucking around with a nice, clean dollar, trying to force it into the sewer. Seeing it as a sign, MoLinder jumped off the porch and ran out onto the street, snagging the cash.
"We are so fucking winning the Mega Millions."
"I can't believe no one's ever thought of just doing this before. Sitting around, getting drunk, waiting to win the lottery."
"I know. Douchebags. We are awesome and brilliant."
"And original."
"Yes we are."
A flawless plan for financial success, no doubt. Find a dollar, buy a Mega Millions Quick Pick, receive $78 million. It's just so simple. And then I'm buying a real, live pony (or maybe a burro. Or both), which is all I ever really wanted anyway, other than you know, constant love and desire, complete devotion from the proletariat, unlimited Cool Ranch Doritos, beauty, and uh, immortality.
But we forgot to account for the fact that I am one unlucky motherfucker, which is why I never play the lottery. Gambling is fine when it involves rules and skillful deception. Or dice. Seriously, I have more moxie playing the penny poker slots than asking the guy at 7-11 for a Mega Millions Quick Pick.
So we totally didn't win. You just missed out on a lifetime of listening to me brag about That One Time I Won The Lottery And Bought A Pony (Or A Burro. Or Both).
Your loss.
...
22 comments:
I used to have a pony and I used to live next door to a burro. We called him Louie the French Donkey. And we did it in a bad French accent and imagined him with a beret on his burrowy head. At least I did. The other person in the "we" may not have.
And had you won, I would have been able to say "Yeah, and I was reading her blog back then! In the Before Time!"
Damn you. You should have won. I've always wanted to say that.
Obviously, I'm way more unlucky since I missed out on that action.
Damn.
My kid had Cool Ranch Doritos for breakfast on Easter. He had cereal too, but seeing as how I'm a douche who didn't give him an Easter basket, how the fuck was I going to say no to some CRD's on Easter morning?
The answer is I couldn't. Because I'm no THAT big of a dick.
I have a dollar in my purse that was found in the alley behind my office. I'm a little reluctant to give it up.
When is that shit going to happen again?
It's not.
Every time I play the lottery (which is infrequently) I totally convince myself I'm going to win. Imagine my despair. Every. Time.
Name is a typo, but I like it. I'm new to this and I'm so freaked out by learning that people (like me) who pass through without leaving tracks are called "lurkers" that I'm going to comment on every fucking thing I read from now on, whether I have something to say or not. I refuse to add "lurker" to my definition of myself.
Sorry if this means that everyone has to suffer while I maintain my self-image. But you can always skip it, as in "there goes that poor girl with a lurker complex..."
So, the only time I ever found money floating around a floor (and a lot, a 200 french franc note about 20 years ago, when I was poor), was the same day I'd just had a strange man (as in unknown, personally, to me - wouldn't like to be judgemental about this) push his hand up my skirt to grab my coño, in Lourdes fucking France of all places, holiest place in the world bar - several, now I come to think of it. Divine compensation? I took the money and ate.
you could start collecting cans and bottles, saving up the deposit money and then buy one ticket a week. that would increase your odds of winning from 1 in 10Gazillion to 7 in 10Gazillion...
Every time you wrote burro I read burrito. Which you could probably buy for a dollar at the 7/11 if you're really, really brave.
Fucking sucks. I understand you need for ass (or, an ass, or a burro, whatev) and a cruising dollar is the sign of all things luck-worthy. However, would have been more promising if pressed with lipstick. Then of course would have been message from the gods. How much more clear can "Kiss my ass" be? Surely a burro would have awaited.
You should write that again, next time in screenplay format.
Bang it out. 110 pages.
Then watch the millions come in. I have no doubt you could do it.
Fuck, hereinfranklin, you totally stole my comment. And now, I'm just left with a hollow craving for burritos. Or maybe chimichangas. Definitely empanadas.
How about a churro. Would you buy a churro?
I would.
man, i really thought we were going to win. so lame. when i do win, i'm going to invest in genetic engineering or some crap like that and make myself a unicorn. or clone my cats. i can totally make that happen with $78 millon.
I want a magic cupboard that has a fresh bag of Cool Ranch Doritos in it every time I open its doors.
Sorry, Ginny. The empanadas are on me.
I'm the unluckiest person alive. I'm the opposite of charmed. If I watch a game and I start rooting for the team you can bet that that team will lose. But if I bet that the team would lose, they would win. See? Unlucky. When I get lottery tickets for gifts I'm saying, "Thank you so much! When I win I'll split the winnings with you!" but inside I'm thinking, "You should have just given me the dollar."
Lurker complex and divine compensation--two new phrases added to the vernacular--love it.
I'm a break even girl like Elaine on Seinfeld. Once I won the office football pool which is practically unheard of 'cause here's how I pick winner,"Hmmm, I like Dolphins they're cute so I'll pick FLA), so I won like 150 buck, woohoo, same day I locked my keys in the car and cost me almost to the dollar what I won--same day, that is my luck.
Also, car broke down, $480 bill to fix, same day got check from my aunt fran for $500.
I do that too. I find a quid and instead of quitting while I am ahead I throw it away by buying a lottery ticket which has odds of about 14 million to one of winning. Which is why the lottery over here is called a tax on stupidity.
I still hope.
I need to use the word 'douchebag' more frequently. It has kind of slipped out of my insult arsenal in favor of Commonwealth put-downs like 'dozy cow', 'tosser' and 'poof'. I'm losing my identity as an American.
Ambiblob: Well, aren't you just specialer than me in every way? (Yes.)
Wolf: I would have given you a dollar, too.
Boomer: Keep it. Don't waste your flavor.
Gypsy: Because every single time is the time. And you can feel it.
Denie: That's a damn good story, but it would be way cooler if you had a website that I could check out.
Daisyfae: From one to seven? Holy probability, that's incredible.
Franklin: Hungry now.
Mia: Yeah, but I don't want a burro for purposes of kissin' like.
Kitty: It's a stretch, but it might work...
Ginny: Chalupa?
Boomer: I would definitely buy a churro, and I wouldn't share. It's a fucking churro, man. That shit's sacred.
MoL: You SHOULD make a unicorn!
RF: A man after my own heart. One can never eat too many Cool Ranch Doritos.
Gwen: For my 26th birthday, my friends bought me $26 worth of lottery tickets, and I was like, "Thanks, but that would have been far better spent on shots of something delicious." I won nothing.
FF: Breaking even is better than breaking legs. Does that even make sense?
Baglady: If you haven't got hope, you haven't got anything.
Freeman: I used to be jealous of the British and the Australians, because I feel like their expressions are so much more fun to say. Whenever I call anything 'rubbish' I just feel like a poser.
My husband and I have been going to the casino here for the last few date nights-- we've been so freaking lucky, it's been like having a second job... well that would mean I'd have to have a first job, what whatevs.
you can't be unlucky. No, because when you drew the picture of me and you mentioned the theivin gypsies, I totally had this mental flash of you somehow getting caught into the fake gambling that the gypsies do to try to steal money from tourists. But then I totally imagined you realizing what was happening and tricking their asses and walking away with the goods. Are you ever gonna tell the tale of the theivin gypsies? Have you already?
Flora: You lucky bastard! Share the love.
Blues: No, the tale has yet to be explored. I think. I'll get on it. But first, I'm going to post the guest post you wrote for me, because that was The. Shit.
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